


Help Me Live

by CosmicRabbit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Coping, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Internal Conflict, Sex, mostly plot with some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 13:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12169686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicRabbit/pseuds/CosmicRabbit
Summary: What would happen if Vishkar succeeded in taking Symmetra's prosthetic when she tried to leave the organization? How does she cope with this newfound loss? One-Shot. Established Symmrat Relationship.





	Help Me Live

**Author's Note:**

> This work was heavily influenced by "Lifted from the Depths" from Red-Elephant on Fanfiction.net. Her work was truly a masterpiece.

Satya lay awake in her bed. She had been lying there, the same way, for hours. She glanced at the clock beside her: 3:00am resonated brilliantly in the darkness. She had constructed that clock herself and suddenly had the furge to grab it, but stopped herself as she remembered, with crushing clarity, that she no longer had a left arm.

_Calm down, Satya...everything you need lies within you..._

Although the mantra was loud in her head, her thoughts were ruining her and she felt herself crumbling under their weight. 

Overwatch had been assigned a new mission and, due to the removal of her prosthetic, instructed her to stay within the base and not come on site. Junkrat had yet to come home. Where had he said they were going? Why hadn't they returned yet?

She smiled sadly to herself. She knew their relationship was not what most of the world considered "normal", but she still thought domesticity was working for them. They were acting as the world's agents of justice and she knew how long past missions have taken. Jamison was also not someone who adhered to curfews and his work was no exception.

  
She knew this, and yet, the uncertainty and doubt were killing her. _What if he had gotten hurt? What if he was alone somewhere, bleeding and crying out for someone...but no one could hear him? What if you never heard his heart beat, felt the intensity of his kiss, or felt the warm sensation of his arms around you ever again?_  
  
As much as meditation and reflection helped calm her, the fear, loneliness, and rejection felt sharp in her chest and the craving for human contact felt unbearable. It killed her that she couldn't help him if he was in trouble, whether she was with him or not, because without her prosthetic she was...  
  
She shook her head. She couldn't think it. She could not think it. _Not useless, not useless, not useless_...but the thoughts wouldn't stop.  
  
Memories from the past kept bubbling in her mind - fresh, raw, and vivid. She had tried desperately to leave them behind and suppressed them for years.

Why did these memories decide to haunt her now?  
  
She remembered walking through the streets within the Hyderabad slums. Her family had no actual house, but a cement shack with square holes as windows and a blue plastic sheet as a roof. The property was small, but somehow 8 people shoved within its quarters felt normal. The faces around her had a distinct look - skin stretched like wax over protruding bones, cracked lips from dehydration, and a hollow sadness etched in every wrinkle. They were the people the world had forgotten.  
  
Clusters of garbage would leak onto walking paths and rivers. The foul odor of human filth would emanate through the streets with mosquitos, flies, and disease close behind. Satya _hated_ the filth.  
  
In contrast, other children her age didn't seem to pay attention to their environment and would often have wrestling matches in the mud within the "community park". She never understood why they wanted to go outside in the dizzying heat when there were so many great things to do inside.  
  
Satya felt she could never connect with anyone and, for a time, stopped speaking entirely. Instead, Satya would practice Bharatanatyam or craft intricate shapes onto paper from what appeared in her mind. She had been nothing and, for her, that was okay - as long as she had time in solitude to do as she liked.  
  
Satya's parents were not nearly as fond of her hobbies or non-verbal queues. They would often pray that she would make friends and perform better in school and was constantly compared with her siblings.  
  
When Vishkar came for her, she had just turned 7 years old and, to her parents, they were saviors. Her mother initially seemed to have no hesitations in releasing her, but she did display some sadness and regret. The last image she remembered from her early home was being held tightly by her mother and hearing gently in Telugu: There's no future for you here, my lovely girl " _Ikkaḍa bhaviṣyattu lēdu, Nā sundaramaina am'māyi_ ".  
  
Satya remembered the pride she felt when she gained her prosthetic. She felt strong, powerful, and capable of creating a **whole world** that she liked: a beautiful, clean, and orderly world where everything and everyone had its place.  
  
Once Symmetra had been assigned to help improve the living conditions in Hyderabad, she had already been involved with Overwatch for some time.  
  
In their records, Vishkar described her birthplace as, "A residential area where dwellings are unfit for human habitation by reasons of dilapidation, overcrowding, lack of ventilation or sanitation facility and having drinking water facilities in unhygienic conditions". It was sad, truly, that every Vishkar project she worked towards had been a lie: instead of building a better world and maintaining peace, she had assisted in feeding greed and driving the world even further into madness.  
  
When she tried to leave Vishkar on her own, it took one verbal order for her to be taken, drugged, and stripped of her prosthetic. As she lay in bed now, only a week after its removal, her identity was truly lost. If Symmetra lost her essence: the power to save people, especially the people she loved, then she was no hero. Who was Satya Vaswani without Symmetra?  
  
A harsh mental voice whispered: ~~no one~~.  
  
She remembered Jamison saying farewell with a cautious look, as if he had wanted to argue again that one arm made no difference and that she should go with him, "to hell with tha' bloody ape". But, he had been treading lightly around her since the incident, so it did not surprise her when he said nothing.  
  
Satya gave him a practiced smile.  
  
"I will be fine here, Jamison. Don't do anything too wreckless."  
  
He had smiled back, flashing his gold tooth. "I'll try an' not blow myself up, yeah? Scout's honor." He gave a little wave and off he went.  
  
Satya could feel an increase in her heart and breath rate. What if she could never construct anything with hard light again? What if she would remain physically handicapped forever? _What if Overwatch decided she was useless?_  
  
Satya couldn't stand being in the bedroom anymore. The darkness was closing in and the thoughts were getting out of control. Jamison always helped her in moments like this - his warmth, his passion, his unending amount of energy. But...Jamison wasn't with her and she needed to pull herself out of her misery.  
  
She slowly rose from the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom on shaky legs- the dim blue light from the clock guiding her. Satya didn't think to turn on the overhead light and, instead, lit a candle by the sink.  
  
Satya carefully shed her clothes and walked herself into the tub. She needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere with sturdy, solid walls to keep her emotions contained.  
  
She felt like she couldn't breathe or think. She didn't know where to put her fingers. She started pulling at anything she could to try and ease the feeling - her eyebrows, her hair, her skin...but the internal contortions remained. Although she was sitting completely still, she felt as though she was falling in a dizzying, endless loop. She bit the inside of her mouth and didn't stop until she tasted blood. The pain was there, but at least she was in control again. _"Gods, my mind is a mess."_  
  
She felt the prickling of tears starting at her eyes and a hot pain growing in her throat as she tried to hold them back. _Why must all people suffer? Why does it need to hurt so badly?_

The tears started to fall freely and she turned on the shower. The water was a welcome distraction as it pounded angrily against her back and drowned out her tears with its sound. The water was hotter than she normally allowed, but she relished in the pain of it. She pressed her head against the cold tile beside her and enjoyed the contrasting temperature. She tried and tried to be perfect, but she could never get it quite right, could she? _And now, you're alone...alone...alone..._  
  
It was then, in the distance, she heard the familiar sound of a door opening in the distance. Satya froze, eyes widening, as she tried to focus. She hastily rubbed at her eyes to clear away the tears.  
  
"Oi, Symm?"  
  
He sounded tired and his uneven gait slowly approached the bathroom door. _He must have heard the shower, somehow, after setting off explosives all night_.  
  
She wanted nothing more than to call out to him and tell him how much she needed him, loved him, wanted him, missed him...yet, there was another part of her that wanted to push him away.  
  
She heard the bathroom door open and closed her eyes tightly. She tried desperately to keep her voice even. "I'm in the shower, Jamison."  
  
"Yeah, got that. Couldn't sleep again?"  
  
"I...I'm not feeling well."  
  
She heard the crash of his heavy gear as Jamison shrugged it off his shoulders onto the bathroom floor. Jamison leaned against the wall by the tub.  
  
"The mission went 'right, ya know. Blew up some Talon fucks. Ole' angel wings was at my left and Rhoadie on my right. Didn't place the bombs quite exact, like how ya told me, but still worked. Missed havin' Symm at my side tho..."  
  
"Not Symm anymore, remember? Just Satya now." She realized too late that she shouldn't have said that.  
  
Jamison gently pulled the curtains to the side and froze when he saw her. She was huddled in a fetal position under the water stream with her long black hair draped around her body like a cloak. She looked up at him and couldn't discern his facial expression in the dim light.  _What was he thinking now?_  
  
He knelt next to the tub beside her.  
  
"Oi...don't talk like that. Ya got worth, Sat. Doesn't matter what happens or what ya look like today, tomoz, ever. You'll _always_ be Symm." He sounded so serious.  
  
She could practically hear his mind ticking away as he continued looking at her, trying to figure out how to make things better.  
  
She couldn't hold back any longer.  
  
"Jamie, I was so scared something had happened to you, to the team...I can't do anything. I feel so lost and I don't know what to do. These thoughts won't go away!" The tears were back and her body vibrated softly with them as she closed her eyes and brought her gaze down to her lap.   
  
Jamie brought his flesh hand to her cheek and turned her gaze back towards his. He rubbed her cheek in small circles.  
  
"You'll be right. I promise, ya will. You're strong, always hav been."  
  
Her eyes finally locked with his and she felt her mind go blank. Why did she find his eyes so mesmerizing? Those amber orbs, now a diluted gold in the dim light, were always so full of passion and warmth. They drew her in like gravity.  
  
Her hand slid down his sides until her fingers connected with his patched green shorts that were hung low on his bony hips. A familiar heat flashed between her thighs. _Oh gods..._  
  
His fingers grazed over her own and he felt the pruning on her fingertips. "How long have ya been in here?" His voice was just above a whisper, but it sounded loud to her ears.  
  
She felt her heart lift to her throat- She wanted to feel the smooth, taut muscles that have been teasing her. She wanted to graze her hand over his tight abdomen.  
  
She decided he was nowhere near close enough to her. She needed him. She wanted him. She was desperate to relieve the gnawing anxiety.

She could hardly see his face in the dim light, the sharp angles of his jaw lost in the darkness. 

"Jamie..." Satya leaned into him further and brought her mouth to his.  
  
Jamison held her shoulders and tried to pull away. "Hang on a tick-" She silenced him by grabbing his hair and bringing his mouth back against hers. She wanted to taste him, to feel him, to swallow him whole so he could fill her up...  
  
She pressed her breasts against his chest and massaged her fingers over his scalp while she tried to coerce his tongue to dance with hers. He tasted delicious.  
  
He pulled away from her again.

"Sat, this ain't righ' -" 

"Kiss me." She demanded as her mouth traveled down to explore the pulse point of his neck. She felt in control again.  
  
He closed his eyes tight. "Sat..." A groan escaped through clenched teeth. "You're upset-"  
  
She stopped the assault on his neck and looked into his eyes again. "I am telling you to kiss me." She repeated, voice fierce but breaking. She couldn't handle his rejection and was feeling the control slip. "Please, Jamie?"  
  
He'd never been able to deny her anything. Jamison gently grabbed the back of her head and plunged his tongue into her mouth: hard and demanding. Satya responded with equal fervour as they grabbed at each other and stumbled around the tub. Satya allowed herself to be picked up, with Jamison gripping her ass and thighs, and lifted against the wall. Satya hissed, feeling the sudden chill of the ceramic tiles against her spine. Almost on instinct, Satya wrapped her left leg around his waste, grinding her moist hips against his. Despite his earlier resistance, she could feel him already getting hard for her.  
  
Jamison struggled to keep their weight on his good leg as their kiss deepened again. She needed to feel him in the most basic sense and needed help to extinguish the darkness around and within her. His mouth was so warm that she felt as though she could breathe fire.  
  
Jamison pulled away just enough to drop his saturated shorts and kick them away, leaving them both completely bare.  
  
Satya gasped as his prosthetic spread her ass and brought her more securely against him. Trapping her against the wall, Jamison groaned while tipping back his head as she guided his cock right there. "Wait..."

He pulls away suddenly, panting beneath his now soaked hair.  
  
"Satya, I want ya so fuckin' bad. But..." He brought her eyes to his again. "Are you sure?"  
  
She knew she was a mess, but he was accepting her mess. She wanted to be reminded of who she was - as a lover, as a woman.  
  
She gave her consent by bringing his length into her heat and taking his mouth with hers until she was completely full of his warmth, taste, and scent.  
  
He nibbled on the base of her neck as he languidly slid his hips into her. He couldn't stop caressing her face, combing through her hair, grazing her breasts, sliding his fingers in her slick folds...  
  
In between thrusts he kept whispering in her ear,  
  
"You're fuckin' gorgeous...Your cunt is gorgeous...Mine, mine, mine..."  
  
His cock was relentless, hitting her in that right spot and _oh!_ She was seeing stars.   
  
She held onto him for dear life. He loved her, he loved her, but he wanted more of her, he wanted to fill her up so full and never let her doubt for a second that she was his and that he wouldn't let her fall.

She felt so full and could feel herself building to that delicious peak. It wasn't ferocious, pounding sex like she'd anticipated, but as she came she realized it was exactly what she needed. As he reached his own release, her face fell into the crook of his neck and tears gathered once again as she listened to the loud drum of his heart. They lowered themselves into the tub once again as his arms encircled her and held her while she cried. 

"Jamie...please don't die."

She felt his body tense. "I'm not goin' anywhere..."  
  
"You can't promise me that. You might..." Jamison stood up then, turned off the water, and wrapped her in the blue towel she loved.

He spoke as he rubbed her dry. "No...suppose not. But the world can't get rid of me that easily, as much as its tried. And I can promise that roight here, roight now, I'm with ya, Sat."

She cringed as she allowed herself to verbalize, "What if I can't protect you? What if I'm useless now?"  He started to rub her hair then.

"Ya've done more for me than anyone ever has. This time will pass. Torb's will make ya a new arm. Now..." He lifted her into his arms, bridal style. "in the meantime, let me take care of ya."

He placed her into their bed, towel discarded on the floor, and climbed in behind her. He pulled her close and allowed himself to take in the sweet scent of her hair. 

She was satisfied with his response and finally starting to feel normal again as this was the routine she had grown fond of within the past 7 months. The anxiety had dulled to a slight murmur and the toxic thoughts were muffled. Somehow, things did not seem nearly as bad as they had before.

A soft smile tugged at her lips as she relaxed in the afterglow allowed herself to feel the exhaustion that threatened to consume her. Wrapped up in his arms, heart beating against her back, and his chest rising and falling in sync with hers, she realized that Jamison had never been more alive. 

She snuggled further into his embrace. 

"Thank you."

 

 


End file.
